Bitter Reunion
by mockingjayde
Summary: *Mockingjay fic* The scene in Mockingjay where Peeta sees Katniss a second time, told from Peeta's point of view. It's a bitter reunion on both parts.


**Disclaimer**: I am not Suzanne Collins. All rights go to her!

***UPDATED***

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"Peeta," Nurse Fields says, hooking my arm up to a small packet of clear liquid. "Katniss is on her way to visit you right now, okay?"

I wince as the needle goes into my left arm. There's a brief stinging sensation and then nothing. I look up at her, slightly confused, wondering why they're inserting needles into me if I'm going to have a visitor. "What's this?"

Nurse Fields purses her lips and quickly flicks the bag of liquid. "I'm hooking you up to a heavy anesthetic. You are in a very fragile state of mind, Peeta. One wrong move…" she finishes hooking me up, " well, it's better to be safe than sorry."

Safe. Safety. What a joke. I can never be safe. How could I? No matter where I am, no matter whose guarding my door, there is no such thing as safetly. I'm smart enough to learn this by now. For one thing, I don't even know whose on my side now or not. Whose friend or who's foe. Wherever I go, it seems, there's always something after me. President Snow. Cato. Foxface. Cashmere. Even worse, Katniss. Safety is absolutely unattainable for me.

"Okay." I mumble, shifting awkwardly in my hospital bed. The manacles around my wrists make it almost impossible for me to get comfortable. The cold metal bears into my arms, but I can't complain. There's no way I'll be relieved. Apparently, I'm dangerous.

These people try tell me they're not the enemy. They've been feeding me four meals a day and talking to me with smiling faces. They're trying to be as welcoming as possible, but I can't help but feel otherwise. I'm not at home. My home is ruined, destroyed. And I have Katniss Everdeen to blame.

They tell me over and over again that Katniss is not a mutt. They tell me that she is not the enemy. They say that she's actually the one who kept me alive in both of the Games. But I know better. I remember her hurting me. I remember how she wanted me to swallow the berries so she'd be Victor and I'd be just another dead tribute. I remember her aiming the arrow right at my heart. I _know _that she has purposely toyed with my emotions. She's the enemy. I've seen the tapes. I have the memories to prove it.

And yet, there's a small part of me that thinks maybe they _are_ right. I mean, she hasn't came in to kill me in my sleep. Yet, at least.

A bow and a set of arrows abrupty drift into my mind. Those deadly weapons- the reason why so many of my friends are dead. Why my family is dead.

Maybe she is a mutt…

Maybe not.

But, maybe.

Better not make a permanent decision just yet. If she comes into my hospital room a dog with human eyes, then she most definitely is a mutt and I'll know to keep away from her forever on.

Nurse Fields disposes her blue hospital gloves in a trash can next to me and grabs her clipboard. Before she leaves the room, she gives me one long, concerned glance. Her eyes say something along the lines of 'good luck.' I can't help but compare that to the looks of Capitol citizens and my prep team as I was approaching the Arena those times in the past.

The door knob clicks. My heart stops. I take a second to mentally prepare myself for the worst. If Katniss is a mutt, I'm defenseless. Vulnerable. She'll bound across the room and murder me in a second. I hesitate, holding my breath. Finally, slowly, ever so slowly, she walks in. Her eyes are heavy with anxiety and something else that I can't place. She walks to the foot of my bed and awkwardly folds her arms across her chest. "Hey."

A human voice. A worried human voice. I don't remember the Mutts having voices.

"Hey," I say back, eyeing her carefully. She appears weaponless. But I can't be sure. I see no bow or sheath of arrows on her back. I don't even see a hunting knife clipped to her belt. She's unarmed.

"Haymitch said you wanted to talk to me," she murmurs quietly. My jaw sets. Haymitch. Ah, I forgot. I haven't quite forgiven him yet, either.

My eyes meet hers. Human eyes, obviously. I look at the rest of her. She's wearing the same plain grey outfits everyone else here is wearing, and she looks a little underweight. But even still, it's an improvement from the Katniss I've seen in my memories. She has on some muscle, but not very much. If she were to suddenly turn into a mutt and attack me, I'm pretty sure I'd be able to take her. Her hair is pulled back into her usual braid- a style I learned to fear- and her frown clearly states that she's unhappy. I'm not sure if she's unhappy with me, or unhappy with my condition. I mean, she _is_ supposed to be madly in love with me. I guess I was right, that really was for the Games. "Look at you, for starters." I say, "you're not very big, are you? Or particularly pretty?"

Something flickers across her face. Anger. I've clearly offended her. "Well, you've looked better," she says bitterly.

After being starved and tortured by the Capitol, my appearance hasn't been on my Top Priority list. I almost say out loud, glaring at her right back. How could I ever have loved this girl? First, she tries to kill me. Multiple times. Secondly, she's ruthless with her words. "And not even remotely nice," I say out loud, raising my eyebrows, "to say that to me after all I've been through."

Katniss sighs. "We've all been through a lot," her voice softens, "and you're the one who was known for being nice, not me."

She looks at me, hopelessly. Exasperated. I watch as she turns around and starts to walk out of the room.

I don't know what, but something inside me tells me to stop her. We have unfinished business to take care of. To discuss. She's not a mutt, I know that, or at least not _that_ kind, but if these nurses were right about that, maybe they were right about a lot of other things, too. Maybe she really wasn't trying to kill me, that it was all the Capitol's ploy to mess with my brain. There are memories I have that I can't explain. Younger memories, from when I was a little kid who lived in the Seam. If those memories are true, then could it be true that Katniss isn't the enemy? That she's on my side? Could that helpless, starving little girl really be out for blood? For _my _blood?

"Katniss," I say firmly, " I remember the bread."

"They showed you a tape of me talking about it," she says, her back still turned on me.

Tape? How could the Capitol receive a tape of us as little kids? "No. Is there a tape of you talking about it? Why didn't the Capitol use it against me?" President Snow showed me everything else, why would he skip this?

She turns around and faces me. "I made it the day you were rescued," she wraps her arms around her chest, quietly shivering. "What do you remember?"

I tell her. Purposely burning the bread. Taking my mother's slap in order to give Katniss the bread. The flicker of hope she had as she ran home.

"That's it," she whispers, "that's what happened. The next day, after school, I wanted to thank you. But I didn't know how."

Dimly, I remember. She didn't need to thank me, because seeing her alive the next day was thanks enough. I remember her in her little green cotton dress, bending over to reach the ground. I didn't know what she was doing at first, but then I saw the bit of yellow. A dandelion. She had picked a dandelion.

"I must have loved you a lot," I say slowly.

"You did," she lowers her head, voice cracking. I sneak a peek. She looks so genuinely sad. Part of me wants to get up and comfort her, but I know I can't.

"And did you love me?"

Katniss slumps down a little. Defeated. She clears her throat before she says, "Everyone says I did. Everyone says that's why Snow had you tortured. To break me."

Yes or no? My head throbs harder. "That's not an answer," I say bitterly. "I don't know what to think when they show me some of the tapes. In the first arena, it looked like you tried to kill me with those tracker jackers." The image of Katniss dropping down the nest on us replays behind my eyes. She wanted me to die. She wanted me dead then. The anger inside me slowly builds up again. The mutt Katniss starts reappearing in this fragile girl.

I press on. Suddenly furious. "Later, there was a lot of kissing. Didn't seem very genuine on your part. Did you like kissing me?" my tone goes bitter. I remember those tapes. She was doing it all for the camera. She was kissing me to save herself. She could care less about me, or my life.

"Sometimes. You know people are watching us now?" she glances at the walls. My heart pounds but I need to keep my cool. I don't want to get knocked out with drugs again. If I do, the nightmares will be sure to inhabit my brain again and I'd have missed my opportunity to get some answers. Instead, I turn my anger into my words. "I know," I say harshly, "What about… Gale?" I practically spit out his name.

Her face hardens. Her eyes narrow. She's getting furious. Good old short tempered Katniss. I'm waiting for the mutt to lunge at me. She's bound to surface now, I can feel it. "He's not a bad kisser, either," she says curtly.

"And it was okay with both of us? You kissing each other?" I'm sure she thought it was. I'm sure she thought taking me for granted was perfectly fine. Mutt-Katniss always get's her way. If not, then she'll torture us until she does. I'm reminded of another important person who had a key part in making my life hell. President Snow. Katniss is no better than President Snow.

"No," she says, glaring at me, hard, "it wasn't okay with either of you. But I wasn't asking for your permission."

This makes me laugh. Mutt-Katniss. It's funny to think that just a few minutes ago, I thought she was okay. Really, she's no different from Snow. They both have hurt me. They both don't really care about the implications of what they do. They both just think of me as a piece in their own private, personal Games.

My eyes lock with hers. She's scowling at me. This probably didn't go how she planned. The corners of my mouth turn up into a smile. "Well, you're a piece of work, aren't you?" I say, triumphant with my victory.

Her mouth drops open a little, then she closes it tightly. I don't even try to stop her as she storms out the room.

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**A/N**: Gah, finally got around to updating. Please review! I'll love you forever if you do. :3


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